


given me the thrill of a lifetime

by Anonymous



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Friends to Lovers, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Minor Injuries, While You Were Sleeping AU, mentions of past character death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-20
Updated: 2017-05-20
Packaged: 2018-11-02 20:55:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10952562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: “He's his boyfriend,” he says, sounding confused as he shoots Liam a look, and Liam really wants to die.“Boyfriend?” the girl says again, and Niall nods slowly, looking at Liam again. “Lou’s got a boyfriend?”“Not just any boyfriend,” the police officer in the corner speaks up. “This one saved his life.” He pats Liam a bit on the shoulder, but it does nothing to stop the cold feeling spreading through his stomach.“Saved his life?” one of the other girls asks. “I thought he was pushed from the platform.”“He jumped on the tracks, and pulled him out of the way of an express train,” the officer says, and Liam hears a chorus of gasps from the family crowded around the bed.[or, a While You Were Sleeping AU where Liam is Sandra Bullock, Louis is Peter Gallagher, and Harry is Bill Pullman.]





	given me the thrill of a lifetime

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TheQuietQuill](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheQuietQuill/gifts).



> hiii!!!! i was so excited when i saw this prompt because while you were sleeping is one of my favorite movies ever, and i had to stop myself from just rewriting the script and changing the names hahaha. unfortunately since i was a pinch hitter i feel like i didn't get enough time with this fic to really perfect it (i could've spent months with this) so i'm not completely satisfied but i hope you enjoy it all the same!!
> 
> special thanks to the lovely mod of the fic exchange and to everyone who participated :) hope you like this!
> 
> title from this will be (an everlasting love) by natalie cole, aka the opening credits song from while you were sleeping :)

Growing up, Liam had all these plans. He was going to get out of the small factory town he grew up in, make it big as a popstar, and travel all over the world. His teachers were always telling him to get his head out of the clouds, focus on the here and now, but Liam knew it didn’t matter because all his dreams were going to come true. 

That was before his world came crashing down around him and he was forced to get his head out of the clouds, however. Now, he spends his days sitting in a train booth daydreaming about things that never happened and counting the minutes until his favorite customer, the one with the bright blue eyes and the sharp cheekbones, comes through the turnstile. 

*

“Come on, Paddy, I can’t,” Liam pleads. “I worked the last two holidays, I need some time off.”

Paddy sighs, giving Liam a sympathetic look. “I know you did, Liam, but my kids want me home this year and Perrie can’t because she’s supposed to meet Jade’s parents. You’re the only one who, well--”

“Who hasn’t got any family for Christmas,” Liam finishes, sighing. “Yep, got it.”

“Liam,” Paddy says, and Liam knows he’s being a bit unreasonable, since he really hasn’t got anyone other than his dog to go home to, no matter how active his imagination is regarding a certain customer of his. Plus, Paddy has been one of the most solid people in his life since everything went down, taking a chance on a 19-year-old kid who lost everything, and now almost six years on Liam’s still grateful. 

“Alright, I’ll do it. But I’m taking New Year’s Eve and Day, okay?” Liam says, and Paddy looks too relieved to fight him on his request. He leaves the office, not entirely satisfied with the prospect of working Christmas Day, but a small part of his brain (that he tries to silence) speaks up with a hopeful thought that just maybe, _he_ could show up.

*

Liam first saw him on a Tuesday in the middle of September. It was a pretty standard day, Liam was attempting not to fall asleep at his place behind the glass, taking tokens and monitoring the turnstiles. Then, when he looked up, he saw _him_. It was like a lightning strike, this boy in front of him with bright blue eyes, sharp cheekbones, and swoopy brown hair. Liam took his token and the guy shot him a quick smile and _thanks_ before rushing off for his train, and Liam was gone. 

Liam sees him most morning shifts he works, probably catching the guy on his way to work. They've never spoken, Liam has no idea what his name is, how old he is, if he even likes dudes, nothing. But that doesn't stop his imagination from dreaming up wild scenarios as he sits in the booth, a scene where one day the blue-eyed boy looks up when he drops his token, sees Liam, and falls as quickly as Liam did. 

So maybe Liam's a bit pathetic, pining after someone who he doesn't even _know_ , but whatever. One day Liam will get the courage to talk to him, he will. And he can finally get his happily ever after. 

*

Christmas Day finds Liam bundling up in his warmest coat (old and ratty but it does the trick), gloves on his hands and beanie shoved over his bedhead to fight off the chill that always seeps through the walls of the booth no matter how many times they complain to the management. He's alone working today, obviously, and it's almost eerily quiet without the chatter of Perrie or Leigh-Anne on the other side of the booth. It doesn't help that he's been working for a few hours and only seen about five customers, a couple who were kissing so heavily on the platform they almost missed their train and a family of three who were obviously on their way to Christmas dinner, laughing and laden with presents. 

Liam sighs, picking at the hole in the finger of his left glove and tries not to check his watch. He's still got several hours before he can head home to curl up with Watson and some leftover Chinese and watch _It's a Wonderful Life_. His thoughts are broken by the sound of a token landing in front of him, and he passes the customer through without looking up. 

“Hey,” a voice calls, and Liam looks up to come face to face with the blue-eyed boy of his dreams. “Merry Christmas,” the boy says before passing the turnstile and walking onto the platform. Liam's too stunned to say anything, and as soon as the boy is out of earshot he groans, dropping his head onto his arms. 

“Come on, Liam,” he mutters to himself. “ _Merry Christmas to you too_. That's a great jacket. You're beautiful. I love you?” He groans again, hitting himself on the forehead, before some shouts filter into the booth coming from the direction of the platform. 

He looks up and sees that his customer isn't the only one out there, and he's now been surrounded by a group of young guys, who seem to be making fun of the clothes the boy’s got on, or something. Liam's too far away to see, but he straightens up, ready to make an announcement or call security when it happens. 

He's too far away, and it happens too quickly for Liam to see, but one of the young guys must shove him because all of a sudden Liam's favorite customer is tripping, and he falls off the ledge of the platform onto the tracks. 

Liam's out of his booth like a shot, running through the group of hooligans who are now sprinting in the opposite direction as he tries to get to the boy. When he does, he calls down from the platform. 

“Sir, are you alright?” he asks, but there's no reaction and then he sees the blood on the guy’s forehead and realizes he must have hit his head on the way down. “Shit, shit. Help!” Liam calls out, but no one's around, so he does the only thing he can think of. 

He jumps onto the tracks, landing practically on top of the boy and gripping his shoulders, trying to shake him awake. “Sir, please, wake up, God you're pretty up close, fuck, wake up,” he pleads, looking up to the platform to see if anyone has answered his call for help, and then he hears the worst thing he could at that moment. A train whistle. 

He looks forward and sees a train headed straight for where he and the still unconscious customer are lying practically right in the center of the track. And it's not stopping. 

“Fuck fuck fuck,” Liam chants, looking around for something to get them out of this situation, and he sees that right to their left is a little open space under the platform, probably meant for when crews need to come to work on the tracks. He looks back towards the rapidly approaching train, thinks _fuck it_ , and grabs the guy by the lapels of his jacket, rolling the two of them over until they're safely under the ledge right as the train passes where they had been seconds prior. 

He looks down, checking to see if he made any of the injuries on the other boy worse, and he sees that the boy's blue eyes have fluttered open. 

“Hi,” Liam whispers, only for the boy's eyes to roll back in his head and for him to pass out once more. Liam drops his own head, adrenaline rushing from his body all at once as he exhales. 

_Fuck_ , he thinks. _I really need New Year's off_. 

*

Liam runs through the doors of the emergency room, having followed the ambulance to the hospital after he had been dismissed by Paddy with a _good work, kid, get some rest_. He maybe should have gone home, slept off the shock of his own near-death experience, but instead he needed to check on the boy he had saved, who had still been unconscious when he'd been loaded into the ambulance. 

Liam rushes up to the first nurse he sees, practically slamming his hands on the desk to get her attention. 

“There was a man you just brought in, he fell on the tracks at the train station, I need to know if he's okay,” he says, words coming out in a rush as he still tries to catch his breath. 

“Can I have his name?” the nurse asks calmly. 

“Uh, I don't--I don't know it,” Liam says, still slightly panicked. He looks around, and then, through the glass of the ER he sees the doctors roll a gurney through and there's his boy. 

“You don't know his name?” he can vaguely hear the nurse ask him, but he's already heading through the glass doors to the boy on the stretcher, ignoring the protests of the nurse behind him. He’s just about reached him when a doctor steps in front of him and stops him with a hand on his shoulder. 

“I'm sorry, you can't be back here,” the doctor says sternly. 

“But--” Liam protests, gesturing to the boy on the bed behind them, surrounded by doctors and nurses. 

“Are you immediate family?” the doctor cuts him off. 

“Well, no,” Liam says, and the doctor begins to usher him back out the doors. 

“Immediate family _only_ ,” he says over Liam's protests, and then the doors are shutting in Liam's face and he watches as the boy is rolled off somewhere by the doctors.

“But I love him,” Liam mumbles to himself, falling sideways into the next wall and starting to slide down it before a hand catches his elbow.

“Hey there,” a soothing voice says, and he turns to see a nurse standing there smiling gently at him. The boy can't be much older than Liam is, with dyed blonde hair that's starting to grow out and show his brown roots. “I'm Niall. You want to see that patient, right?”

“Yeah, but the doctor said it's immediate family only, and I'm not--”

“That's alright,” Niall cuts in. “I think he's being taken to surgery right now--just to make sure everything's alright!” he backtracks at the look on Liam's face. “I'm sure everything is fine. When he's all set up in a room I can take you to see him, okay?”

“Really? Oh, thank you so much, Niall,” Liam says, sagging with relief.

“No problem,” Niall says with a grin. “Now you sit down here and relax, and I'll come get you when they're ready.” He leads Liam to a chair and then heads off to talk to one of the other nurses, leaving Liam to chew on his thumbnail and wait. 

*

About an hour after Liam sits down, Niall comes back with the grin that Liam's beginning to think is his default expression on his face. He leads Liam through the hospital halls until they reach a room and step in. Inside Liam sees the boy lying in a bed, bandage around his head and still unconscious, joined in the room by a police officer taking notes in a little notebook and the doctor from before, whose expression turns sour when he sees Liam enter the room after Niall. 

“He's not supposed to be back here,” the doctor says, looking accusingly at Liam. “Family only.”

“This is his boyfriend,” Niall shoots back, and, _what_? 

“Uh,” Liam starts, but he's interrupted by a commotion in the hallway, what sounds like lots of voices, before the door to the room opens again and more people pour in. 

The first one through the door is a woman with dark brown hair, followed closely by four teenaged girls and then a man pushing a stroller with two toddlers inside. As soon as the first woman sees the boy on the bed, she says “oh, Louis,”--distantly, Liam recognises that he's finally learned the boy's name--and walks over to him, running her hand through the bit of his hair not covered by the bandage. Liam knows, both by the familiarity with which she completes the action and the sheer resemblance, that this is Louis’ family, and his heart drops out of his chest. 

The girls who followed their mother into the room now follow her to the bed, circling their brother with expressions of worry. They pay no mind to the other occupants of the room, except for what looks to be the eldest, who has bleached blonde hair and makeup that's been streaked a bit by tears. She scans the room, taking in the doctor, the policeman, and Niall before her eyes land on Liam. She gives him a quick once over and then says, “Who’re you?”

That attracts the attention of the rest of the family, who know move their focus from Louis on the bed to Liam standing awkwardly in the corner. He tries not to fidget awkwardly under their gazes, and most likely fails. 

Before Liam can say anything, Niall cuts in. 

“He's his boyfriend,” he says, sounding confused as he shoots Liam a look, and Liam really wants to die. 

“Boyfriend?” the girl says again, and Niall nods slowly, looking at Liam again. “Lou’s got a boyfriend?”

“Not just any boyfriend,” the police officer in the corner speaks up. “This one saved his life.” He pats Liam a bit on the shoulder, but it does nothing to stop the cold feeling spreading through his stomach. _Oh god_ , he thinks, _this guy’s probably straight, and now his family thinks he’s been lying to them, oh God_.

“Saved his life?” one of the other girls asks. “I thought he was pushed from the platform.”

“He jumped on the tracks, and pulled him out of the way of an express train,” the officer says, and Liam hears a chorus of gasps from the family crowded around the bed. The woman who can only be Louis’ mother detaches herself from the side of the bed, slowly coming towards him. 

“Is that true?” she asks, and Liam nods, not sure what to say. Her eyes begin to well up with tears and she crosses the rest of the distance between them, crushing him in a tight hug, and all of Liam’s protests die in his throat as he’s hugged _close_ and _warm_ and _tight_ like he hasn’t been for too long. She’s saying things to him, thanking him and saying she’s happy to meet him and possibly crying a little, but it’s all lost in the rising guilt in his stomach as he realizes he can’t tell this woman the truth, can’t break her heart all over again while her son is in the hospital.

*

As soon as he gets a free moment away from the Tomlinson (Louis’ last name, as he quickly finds out) clan, he drags Niall into a mostly-deserted stretch of hallway. 

“What the hell, man?” he asks gruffly. “I’m not his boyfriend!”

“You’re not? Well then why the hell did you say you were in love with him out in the waiting room?” Niall shoots back, pitch rising with his incredulity. 

“In l--I was talking to myself!” Liam thinks they probably look ridiculous, having a whisper-shouting match in the middle of the emergency room, but can’t bring himself to care.

“Well, next time you talk to yourself, tell yourself that you’re single and end the conversation!” Niall huffs, and Liam’s shoulders sag. 

“Yeah, yeah, you’re right, it’s just--she hugged me _so tight_ , I couldn’t tell her the truth,” he says, and Niall gives him a sympathetic smile. “What am I gonna do?”

“Way I see it,” Niall says. “You’ve got two options: tell the truth or see how far the lie can go.”

“I’ll tell them. I have to tell them,” Liam says, determined. “I’ll go in there and tell them right now.”

*

He doesn’t tell them.

He walks into the waiting room where the family’s been sent to while the doctors perform a few more tests on Louis, and Johannah (“call me Jay, Liam, please,” she insists) grabs him in another of her big hugs. She explains how worried she had been when Louis decided to move away from home, even though it wasn’t too far, how he’s so busy now with his job they haven’t even seen him very much, and how she's “so, _so_ happy he's found a good boy” like Liam. It's all a bit overwhelming, and Liam's not sure how to get a word in, much less how to explain to this woman that he doesn't actually know her son _at all_. So he nods and says he's happy to have found Louis too, and later when he passes Niall in the hallway he hears a mumbled “looks like you went for option two, mate.”

*

Liam begs off shortly after, telling the family he needs to let out his dog; it's true, but it's also an excuse to get away from their curious stares and pointed questions about how long Liam and Louis have been dating (Liam told them he first saw Louis in September, the truth, but Lottie, the eldest sister, still seemed slightly suspicious). 

So he escapes home, almost being toppled by Watson as he walks through the door. Liam crouches down, rubbing Watson’s ears as the dog licks all over his face. 

“Oh man, Watson, I'm in trouble,” he says. Watson just licks his face again. For some reason, it makes Liam feel better. 

*

That night, Liam can't sleep. He'd spent most of the day pacing his apartment, Watson watching sleepily from his dog bed in the corner, thinking about what he's going to do about Louis. Now, it's almost 11 and though Liam's been lying in bed since 9 after deciding he would have a clearer mind tomorrow, he's wide awake. He gets up, puts on some pants, grabs his coat and his keys, and heads out the door before he can second guess himself. 

When he gets to the hospital, most of the rooms are dark, visiting hours long over, but the nurses on shift are crowded in the break room at the end of the hall having a little Christmas dinner, so Liam sneaks into Louis’ room with no protest. 

“Hi,” he says, sinking into the chair next to the bed. “Um, this is weird, but the doctor said you can probably hear some things? So, well, I just thought I'd introduce myself, since your family thinks we're dating. Sorry about that, by the way. Uh, my name’s Liam, Liam Payne, I'm 24, and I work at the train station taking tokens. I've got a dog, Watson, he's a big dog and a pain in the ass sometimes but he's my best friend, and, uh, that's kind of it. I hope--I guess I hope you like me when you wake up. Because, like I said, your family. Sorry about that, again. I'm, I'm gonna go now.” Liam stands up, nodding a bit after one last long look at Louis’ face. He turns around, and comes face to face with Lottie, who's standing in the doorway with a bemused look on her face. 

“Shit,” Liam says. “Um, hi, Lottie, how long have you been there?”

“Long enough,” Lottie replies. “You know, I knew there was something off about you. Louis doesn't usually go for shy guys.”

“Listen, I'm really sorry, but I pulled him off the tracks and they wouldn't let me see him unless I was family, and I just wanted to--”

“Liam, relax,” Lottie cuts him off. “One thing, though: you're not telling the rest of them.”

“What?” Liam asks, confused.

“Listen, my mom's been out of her head with worry since Louis moved out, and now she's feeling better because she thinks he's got a nice strong boyfriend taking care of him.” Liam tries not to blush too much, probably fails based on the look in Lottie’s eye. “Plus, it's Christmas, and it was Louis’ birthday yesterday. It was bad enough he couldn't make it home, imagine how we felt when we got the call that he was in the hospital. Telling the truth right now won't do any good. So I'll help you, okay? I'm family, I can pick the right time to do it, and I'll help you tell them. They can't hate me.”

“Just me,” Liam mutters, then sighs. “Yeah, okay, but we have to tell them eventually.”

“Of course!” Lottie says brightly. “Don't worry, I'll handle it.”

*

Lottie doesn't handle it. 

She keeps telling him to _wait for the right time_ , which apparently will come after Liam and Louis get married, based on the rate Lottie’s going. Liam spends the next two days fielding questions from the Tomlinsons about his relationship with Louis, before they invite him over for a late Christmas dinner. 

“Oh no, you don't have to do that,” he protests. “I wouldn't want to intrude.”

“Please Liam, you have to come!” one of the twins--Liam thinks it's Daisy but he still gets them confused sometimes--begs, tugging on his arm. 

“Yeah, Liam! Harry’ll be there and you haven't met him yet!” the other twin, Phoebe, says from his other side. 

“Harry?” Liam asks, casting a glance around the room. “Who's Harry?”

“You'll have to come to dinner and find out!” Fizzy calls from the other side of the room. Liam looks desperately at Lottie, but she just smirks and shrugs. 

Bloody Tomlinsons. 

*

That night, Liam shows up to the address Jay had given him with a bottle of wine in his hand. He had called Niall after he got the invite, panicking over what to do or bring or say when he got there. Niall had practically laughed him off the phone, telling him he should be more worried about his fake boyfriend in a coma than trying to impress said fake boyfriend’s family. 

Now, sucking in a deep breath, Liam leans forward and rings the doorbell, listening with a small smile to the commotion behind the door. When it opens, Lottie stands there, sending him a quick grin and yelling “Liam's here!” back into the house. That sets off another commotion as the other girls run down the hall, clamoring for Liam's attention. He's trying not to drop the bottle of wine as Daisy tells him about what presents she hopes to get when Jay steps into the hall. 

“Come on, girls, he hasn't even got his coat off. Give him some space,” she says, and the girls step back immediately. “Liam, I'm so glad you could make it, and--oh! You didn't need to bring anything, aren't you so sweet,” she presses a quick kiss to his cheek as she takes the bottle from his hands. “Go on, make yourself comfortable, dinner’ll be on the table soon.” She walks off towards what must be the kitchen, leaving the girls to show Liam around. He leaves his coat and scarf on the overflowing coat rack, dumping his shoes on the large pile by the door as well, then follows Fizzy and Lottie through the door to the living room, where he stops short. 

Sitting on the middle of the floor being used as a personal jungle gym by the younger twins, Ernie and Doris, is a boy. A very attractive boy. A very attractive boy wearing tight jeans and a loose sweater that shows a hint of some very attractive tattoos. 

He looks up, bright green eyes catching Liam’s immediately, and a slow smile spreads across his face. “Oh, you must be Liam.” His voice comes out slow and syrupy, and Liam can't do much more than nod. “I'm Harry, Louis’ best friend and basically adopted brother of these runts.” He tickles Doris’ belly at that, smiling at her giggles. 

“Oh, yeah, I've, uh, heard a lot about you?” Liam tries, the sentence coming out more like a question. 

“Funny, that, seeing as I've heard absolutely nothing about you,” Harry says, and he sounds fairly jolly about it, or maybe that's his default tone. 

“Ah, yeah, well we've only been together a few months, we weren't really at the point of telling people yet, you know?” Liam says, falling back on the excuse he's given countless times in the last few days. Harry sends him a surveying look, and Liam knows he doesn't buy it. Just as he's about to open his mouth to do _something_ before Harry blows his cover, Harry smiles again.

“Sure, mate. I'm gonna go help Jay in the kitchen, alright?” he leaves the room, and Liam drops down to the couch with a sigh. Lottie joins him almost immediately. 

“He knows,” Liam whispers to her. “He knows and he's gonna expose us.”

“Shut up,” she giggles. “He doesn't know anything, he's just upset cause he thinks Lou’s been keeping something from him. Trust me, everything’s fine.” Liam nods, but he can't really stop the sinking feeling in his stomach. 

*

All through dinner, Harry gives him the third degree. He's subtle about it most of the time--“Liam, pass me the potatoes, and how was it you met Louis again?”--and less so other times--“Liam, what's Louis’ favorite color, you know it, don't you?”--until finally Jay tells him to stop giving Liam a hard time with a stern look, and he acquiesces (though not without a smirk thrown Liam’s way that does nothing to quell the nerves he feels. 

It doesn’t help that, objectively speaking, Harry is very good looking. Not even objectively: Liam can admit that in a different situation he could easily have a crush on Harry, with his dimples and curls and green eyes that soften with affection when he talks to the younger girls. But he’s not in that situation, because he’s currently in a--well, sort of--relationship with Harry’s best friend. So it’s best to just nip those thoughts in the bud before he fucks up even more.

After dinner, Liam follows the family back into the living room, where they exchange the presents they were unable to after a Christmas spent in the emergency room, and Liam is surprised when Fizzy brings a box over to him with a simple “to Liam, from Santa.” He doesn’t open it immediately, though the child inside of him is bursting with curiosity over what it could be, choosing instead to hold it close to his chest as he watches Lottie unwrap some expensive-looking makeup products and Phoebe and Daisy squeal over new earrings-- _pierced!_. He’s smiling softly to himself, taking in the warmth from both the fire crackling in the fireplace and the love of the family in front of him when Harry plops down next to him with two mugs in his hands. 

“Here,” Harry says, passing one over. “You like eggnog?”

“Yeah, sure, cheers, mate,” Liam says, taking a sip and practically spitting it back out immediately at the overwhelming taste of alcohol. He manages to swallow it down, but Harry’s already laughing at the probably horrid look on his face. 

“Too strong? Just thought, you know, Lou can be a bit of a party animal, bet his boyfriend is too,” Harry says, smirking a bit like he knows he’s got a one-up on Liam. 

“Ah, no, I don’t. Drink, that is,” Liam says, putting the mug down and looking away, back towards where Jay is opening up a beautiful bracelet she got from Dan. 

“At all?” Harry asks, and Liam shakes his head, still avoiding eye contact. “Shit, here, take mine, it’s not got anything in it, I’m sorry, that was crap of me to do.” He keeps apologizing, pushing Liam his mug and taking the other one back, moving so quickly he nearly spills the whole thing down his front before Liam grabs his hand and stills it. 

“It’s alright, Harry. Thank you,” he says, smiling, and he’s not sure he’s imagining when Harry’s eyes fall for a quick second to Liam’s mouth before he pulls away, clearing his throat and getting up with a small nod to go help Ernie unwrap some new toy. Liam takes a sip of his eggnog, smiling again at the lack of alcohol, and when he looks up, he catches Harry’s eye for a quick second before Harry looks away. Liam tries to convince himself that the feeling in his stomach is coming from the eggnog, not Harry’s gaze.

*

Jay invites him to stay the night, but Liam begs off, saying he’s got work in the morning and he’s already left Watson alone for long enough. She lets him go with a slight frown as he puts his boots and coat back on, but he’s stopped just before he gets out the door by Harry rushing down the hall. 

“Hey, Liam, wait, I’ll give you a ride home,” he offers, and Jay jumps on it too, insisting that it’s late and cold and there’s no way she’s allowing him to walk home or get a cab now that Harry’s being so kind to offer, and next thing he knows he’s sitting in the passenger seat of Harry’s huge black SUV, tupperware full of leftovers clutched in his hands. 

“Put on your seatbelt,” Liam says softly when Harry starts backing out the car. Harry just shoots him a smile and thanks him for watching his safety. Liam nods slightly and turns to look out the window, gripping the leftovers tight as the silence in the car is periodically broken by Harry’s turn signal or him humming a bit to the song playing softly out of the radio. 

“So, Liam,” Harry says finally, reaching out to turn the radio off completely. “What’s a nice young boy like you doing spending Christmas alone? Family too far away?”

Liam snorts at the irony. “Uh, I guess you could say that. They’re, uh, they passed away.”

“Fuck,” Harry says. “I’m so sorry. I can’t stop putting my foot in it tonight.” 

“Not your fault,” Liam says. “Not like you knew, not like anyone knows really. I don’t talk about it a lot.”

There’s silence in the car for a bit, this time unbroken by the radio. Liam sighs. “Go on, ask it.”

“I don’t--” Harry starts, but Liam cuts him off. 

“You want to know what happened. So go on, ask me.”

“Fine. What happened?” Harry asks, shooting Liam a cautious look. 

“Car accident. Six years ago this March. My mom, dad, two sisters, gone. Drunk driver. It’s, ah, why I don’t drink,” Liam says in the matter-of-fact way he’s gotten used to telling the story. He leaves out all the other parts: the fact that Liam was supposed to meet them at the restaurant they were headed to, instead getting the phone call from the cops; the fact that Liam could barely get out of bed for the next three months; the fact that the job at the train station saved him in more ways than one, which is why he’s still there years later even though people keep telling him he could go back to school; lots of things he doesn’t need to tell this boy he barely knows who probably hates him a bit for supposedly making his best friend lie to him.

“God, Liam, I’m, I’m so sorry. That’s--fuck,” Harry says, which is generally the reaction Liam gets to the story. 

“S’alright. We don’t have to talk about it anymore.” _Please don’t make me talk about it anymore_ , Liam adds in his head. Harry luckily seems to be able to read between the lines. 

“So, um, are you and Louis, like, serious?” It's not the smoothest of transitions, but Liam will take it. 

“I guess, I mean, we've only been together a few months, but he's great, you know,” Liam says only slightly awkwardly. 

“Yeah, uh, great,” Harry says much more awkwardly. 

“Alright, listen, mate, I'm sorry Louis didn't tell you about us, or whatever, but you're not the only one who didn't know, so if you could stop treating me like I shot your dog, or something, that'd be great,” Liam explodes, tired of the lie and the people he's hurting and especially of the way Harry seems to hate him for no reason at all. 

“I'm not--okay, yes, it hurts to find out your best friend is hiding something from you--but I don't like, hate you or anything, alright? You're just like, well you're not exactly Louis’ type,” Harry shoots back. 

“What's that supposed to mean?” Liam asks, crossing his arms over his chest defensively.

“I don't know,” Harry says, running a hand through his hair. “It's been awhile since Lou dated anyone, but usually he goes for like, people who don't take his shit, who'll give him shit back, you know? And, I mean, I don't know you all that well, but you're sweet, Liam. So I just, like, can't see it, I guess.”

Liam scoffs. “Well if I'm not my boyfriend's type, then who the hell’s type am I?”

Harry doesn't answer. Instead, he turns the radio on again and quietly asks for the directions to Liam's building. 

*

When they pull up at Liam's apartment, Harry insists on walking him inside. 

“Listen, Liam, I've fucked up enough things tonight, at least let me walk you to your door to apologise,” is what he actually says, and Liam lets him. They make it halfway up the walk before Liam notices the great big pool of ice in front of his front steps. 

“Oh, careful on the ice,” he warns, just before he and Harry step on, and Harry then proceeds to turn into a baby deer, long legs slipping in different directions and hand shooting out to grip the sleeve of Liam's jacket. Liam's hands come up to secure him, landing on Harry's waist. They manage to achieve a sort of equilibrium, standing in the middle of the ice with Liam basically supporting them both. Harry looks up, his face surprisingly close to Liam's, and huffs a laugh.

“Careful, Liam, there's ice,” he says, and Liam laughs, which only serves to make his own feet slip, and now Harry's the one gripping his sides and keeping him up. 

“Fuck,” Harry says, looking shocked and a bit red in the face, smile threatening to break through. “Don’t you--don't you dare take me with you.”

Liam smiles a bit and tries to get a solid footing on the ice. He's mostly there when Harry slips again, foot shooting out and colliding with Liam's ankle, sending them both crashing to the ice.

 

“Oh, Jesus,” Liam says, rolling over and standing up, lifting a hand back up to help pull Harry off the ice, shooting him a curious look when Harry keeps one hand behind him as he stands up.

“Um, so we have an issue,” Harry says, turning around and showing Liam the tear down the seam of the seat of his pants. Liam can’t help himself, he cracks up laughing, even as Harry turns around with an indignant “heeeey.”

“What did you expect, going around in jeans that tight?” Liam asks, laughing again at the look on Harry’s face. “Come on, I’ve got some pants upstairs you can borrow.”

Harry follows him slowly up the four flights to Liam’s one-bedroom, only panting slightly when they reach the door. Liam unlocks the door, flipping the light and heading straight for his bedroom to grab a clean pair of sweats from his closet when he hears a yelp from behind him. He turns, only to be faced with Harry pressed against the wall next to his door by Watson, who has gone up on his hind legs to put his front paws on Harry’s shoulders, licking at his face. Liam laughs, having been in Harry’s position many times before.

“A little help, here?” Harry asks, but he sounds like he’s laughing too, moving his head around to avoid Watson’s tongue.

“Watson, c’mon, you monster, get off,” Liam says, pushing at the dog until he loses interest and heads for his food bowl. “Sorry, he still thinks he’s a puppy sometimes.” Harry’s still leaned against the wall, looking a bit stunned. 

“S’alright. Nice place,” Harry says, and Liam looks around, taking in his ratty couch and his sink of dirty dishes and his laundry sitting by the door because he’d been too lazy to put it away after going to the laundromat last week. It’s not exactly a palace, but it’s home and the best he can afford on his salary, so Liam just nods his thanks and heads to grab the spare clothes. He can hear Harry moving around, probably looking at the few pictures Liam’s got up on the walls in between the Batman merch and music posters. Liam grabs a clean pair of sweats out of his closet quickly, not keen to let Harry explore too much in his living room, especially since he’s still not sure what exactly that moment in the car was about. He goes back into the room, handing Harry the sweats and pointing him to the bathroom before heading to the kitchen and flicking on the kettle and getting out two mugs just to do something with his hands. Harry comes back into the room, looking soft and comfortable and _cute_ which is not something Liam needs to deal with, so he turns back to the kettle and sets about pouring the two mugs of tea, passing one to Harry when he’s done. He hears Harry snort when Liam starts putting his standard three spoonfuls of sugar in, and looks up to see Harry’s eyes dancing over the lip of his mug. 

“How’d Louis react the first time you made your tea like that?” he asks, and Liam looks down, surprised, at where his spoon is sticking out of his mug. 

“Er, dunno. Never had him make me tea,” Liam shrugs, hoping it’s the right answer. Based on Harry’s raised eyebrows, it’s not. 

“Strange. Pretty sure his bloodstream is mostly tea at this point,” Harry says, turning back to his mug and downing half of it in one go. “Anyway, I’d better head out, I’ve imposed long enough. Thanks for the pants, yeah? And the tea. I’ll uh, get these back to you after I’ve washed them.” He shoots Liam a grin, rubs at Watson’s head a bit, and heads out the door, leaving Liam with a lukewarm cup of tea. He pats Watson’s side as the dog comes to stand next to him. 

“Do you see my problem now, Watson?” he says.

*

The next day at work, Liam’s on shift with Leigh-Anne, who he hasn’t seen since before Christmas and who gives him a big hug when he walks into the booth. 

“Liam! It’s so good to see you. Now what’s this that Paddy was telling me about you pulling some fit bloke off the tracks? Regular superhero, aren’t ya?” she says, and he groans, dropping his head onto his crossed arms. 

“Leigh-Anne, you don’t know the half of it,” he starts, before he tells her the whole story. Her eyes widen when he gets to the misunderstanding at the hospital and she hits him when he finishes telling her about Harry and how he maybe, kinda, sorta thinks he’s really fit. 

“Well I’d say that’s a more eventful Christmas than I had. Wait till I tell Jesy, she’s gonna die.”

“ _Leigh_ ,” Liam whines. 

“What do you want me to say, Liam? I reckon you should break up with the coma guy and try for it with his friend, he sounds well nice,” she says, laughing at the outraged look on Liam’s face. 

“He’s in a coma! I can’t break up with him,” he says. 

“Well,” she says solemnly, putting a hand on his arm, “then you might need to pull the plug.” 

“That is _sick_ , Leigh-Anne,” he says, pulling his arm away as she breaks into bright laughter. 

“Either way, you better be bringing someone to mine and Jes’ New Year’s party, alright?” she says, turning back to her side of the booth. Liam just groans again. 

A few hours pass in relative normality, Liam managing not to spend too much time checking the clock to see how long he’s got before he can clock out and head to the hospital. He’s also definitely _not_ thinking about whether or not Harry will make an appearance at the hospital this afternoon, because it doesn’t matter what Harry does or where he does it. He’s mostly convinced himself that’s true when Leigh-Anne nudges him from her side of the booth. 

“So, uh, there’s a pretty fit lad who’s just been sat in his car for the past 15 minutes, any chance you know him?” she says, and Liam’s already got a denial on his tongue when he rolls over to her side of the booth and looks out to the parking lot, where he can see Harry’s familiar SUV parked. 

“Shit,” Liam says. “That’s Harry. What’s he doing here?” 

“Picking you up at work? There’s a keeper,” Leigh-Anne replies, ignoring his protests. “Go on, you’ve only got 20 minutes left and I can cover you. Go get your boy.”

Liam rolls his eyes, squeezing her shoulder in thanks before leaving the booth and heading towards Harry’s car, shoving his hands in the pockets of his coat. When he reaches the SUV, Harry’s not paying attention, notebook open on his knees and scribbling something, so Liam taps gently on the window. Harry jumps a mile, hand flying to his chest as he rolls down the window, and Liam can’t keep the smile off his face. 

“Jesus, Liam, you scared me,” Harry says, hand still pressed to his heart. 

“You’re the one hanging outside my work like a stalker,” Liam shoots back. “What are you even doing here?”

Harry smiles. “Thought I could give you a lift to the hospital,” he says cheerily, dropping his things on the backseat and patting the passenger seat next to him. “Lottie told me you don’t have a car, and it’s too cold for you to walk.” Liam sighs, walking around the SUV before getting in the passenger side. He gets in, and Harry makes a point of fastening his seatbelt before he even turns the car on, which makes Liam smile a bit. Harry nods down at the cupholder, where there’s a bottle of water and a granola bar.

“Thought you might be hungry after your shift,” he says quietly. Liam grins, grabbing the granola bar and ripping it open, getting half of it in his mouth in one bite. “Easy,” Harry laughs. “Don’t want you to choke, though now would be a good time as we’re headed to a hospital.”

Liam laughs, then has to take a quick sip of water to make sure he _doesn’t_ choke on the granola he practically inhaled. Harry looks over, amused look on his face. 

“You’ve got a nice laugh,” Harry says, and Liam doesn’t quite know how to respond to that. Belatedly, he realizes that to an outsider this seems fairly domestic--Harry picking him up at work, giving him food, complimenting him. Almost as soon as that thought enters his head, he shoves it out, knowing that Harry is just trying to make up for them getting off on the wrong foot the day before. _He’s being nice because he thinks you’re dating his best friend_ , Liam thinks to himself. Liam turns to look out the window and doesn’t say anything else until they get to the hospital. 

*

The next couple days pass in a blur of work, trips to the hospital, and, perhaps most concerning, Harry. Harry was suddenly everywhere, picking Liam up from work every day with a bit of food, taking him to the hospital where they would sit by Louis’ bed and try to entertain the younger kids, then driving him home each night. Liam’s surprised to find that it’s exceedingly easy to talk to Harry, that although their interests differ widely in most areas, their disagreements fall under the category of fun banter more often than not. Jay laughs over them when she sees them huddled in corners, saying it'll be a nice surprise for Louis when he wakes up that his boyfriend and best friend are already thick as thieves. Liam tries not to think too much about Louis waking up, because Lottie still hasn't told the family the truth, and at this point Liam doesn't really want her to. He doesn't want the bubble he's living in to burst, the one where he's got a family who cares about him. So he just smiles at Jay or the girls when they talk about Louis waking up, and tries not to let it show that he's dreading the moment. 

*

Liam doesn't go to the hospital on New Year’s Eve, though he knows the family is having a little party in Louis’ room. He instead takes joy in his rare day off and sleeps in, taking Watson for a long walk in the early afternoon and vegging on the couch until he has to get ready for Leigh-Anne and Jesy’s party. They always insist he can’t just show up in a t-shirt, so he actually puts in a bit of effort and digs out a nice pair of pants and a white button down from the depths of his closet. He leaves the top few buttons undone, not keen on trying to do a tie only for it to come undone inevitably once he gets to the party. The last thing he grabs is a blazer, mostly thinking it’ll help keep out some of the chill on the walk over. He takes a quick glance in the mirror, thinking he doesn’t look half bad, and grabs his coat before he heads out the door. 

He opens the door and almost runs headfirst into Harry, who’s standing outside with his hand poised to knock. He slowly lowers his arm, eyes wide as he takes in Liam’s outfit. He clears his throat after a full-body scan, but when he speaks his voice still comes out rough.

“Hey, Liam, you look nice.”

“Thanks, Harry,” Liam says. “But, uh, what are you doing here?”

“Oh, right, um, I thought I’d see if you had any plans? Which, um, you obviously do, so I’ll just, go?” Harry stutters, turning to head down the stairs, but Liam grabs him by the sleeve.

“Wait, I’m just headed to a party thrown by one of the girls from work, it’s nothing big, would you--d’you wanna come?” Liam asks, though he’s not entirely sure why, since introducing Harry to the girls is a disaster waiting to happen. All he knows is that he didn’t want to watch Harry walk out the door. 

“Yeah, that’d be great. Is it far? I’ve got my car,” Harry says, breaking into a smile. 

“No, it’s only a few blocks. We can walk it. That is, if you can stand to part with your leather interior,” Liam teases.

“Excuse you, Liam,” Harry says, shooting Liam an affronted look. Liam just laughs, locking his door behind him and pushing Harry to move down the stairs. 

They make the walk to the girls’ apartment in relative silence; Liam notices that Harry’s shivering a bit in his thin coat, but doesn’t tease him about missing the heated seats in his car. Instead he steps a bit closer, so they’re walking with arms brushing. 

When they reach the apartment, Perrie opens the door, exclaiming when she sees Liam before her eyes alight on Harry standing a bit behind him. “Hey!” she calls out to the partygoers behind her. “Liam and his boyfriend are here!”

Harry makes a choked off noise next to him, and Liam’s eyes feel like they’re going to bulge out of his head, like in cartoons. He rushes inside, grabbing Perrie by the arm. “No, Perrie, we’re not together. This is Harry, he’s Louis’ best friend. _Louis_ is my boyfriend,” he tells her, shooting an apologetic look back at where Harry is still stood frozen in the doorway. 

Perrie practically trips over herself apologizing, but Harry breaks out of his stupor and waves her off, dropping a casual arm around Liam’s shoulders. “If only I were so lucky,” he jokes. “Liam here’s pretty committed to Louis, though.” 

Liam forces himself to smile, Harry’s arm starting to feel like a noose around his neck instead of friendly comfort. He moves past Perrie into the rest of the house, saying hello to the people he recognizes but not stopping until he reaches the drinks table. There’s a bowl full of punch and Liam goes straight for it, pouring it into a glass. He’s got it about halfway to his mouth when Harry reaches him, grabbing his wrist. 

“I think that’s spiked,” Harry says, mouth tilting into a concerned frown.

“Good,” Liam says, downing half the cup in one go before he pulls it away, coughing at the overpowering taste of vodka. Harry gently takes the cup from him and rubs his back until the coughing subsides. 

“Listen,” he says. “Do you want me to go? I probably shouldn’t have come anyway, and you’re obviously uncomfortable, and I--”

“No,” Liam cuts him off. “I’m sorry, I--” he sighs, running a hand through his hair. “I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“Well, me either, Liam,” Harry says, face beginning to break into a smile. “So why don’t we figure it out together?”

*

It’s surprisingly easy after that, Harry stealing his cup of punch and replacing it with a soda before asking Liam to introduce him to his friends at the party. Liam complies, though he isn’t too pleased with how Harry and Leigh-Anne seem to become thick as thieves immediately--but it is funny to see Jesy intimidate the hell out of Harry before she laughs at him and tells him not to crap himself. 

Liam’s having a good time, hitting up the makeshift dance floor with Jade for a couple songs before Perrie cuts in and he stumbles off to the side, not keen to be caught up with whatever they’re going to get up to when it hits midnight in a few minutes. He ends up leaning against a wall catching his breath when Harry makes his way over to him, stumbling at the last second when he bumps into someone’s shoulder. He manages to stay upright, but the drink in his hand sloshes over and drips down his white shirt, staining it a dark red. 

“Oh, Harry, you’re such a hazard,” Liam says, grabbing Harry by the wrist and pulling him closer. He dips a napkin into his glass of water and starts dabbing at the spot on Harry’s shirt.

“What are you doing?” Harry asks, taking another half-step closer.

“Do you want it to stain?” Liam asks, looking up at Harry and finally noticing how close they’re standing. Harry’s got him practically completely boxed in against the wall, and though Liam’s been off the dancefloor for several minutes now he suddenly feels breathless. Vaguely, he hears the countdown starting in the background, but he’s more focused on how Harry moves impossibly closer, until they’re breathing the same air. Liam’s frozen, hands still pressed to Harry’s chest though he’s not doing much to work at the stain anymore. His eyes catch on to Harry’s, his green gone dark with an emotion that Liam can’t quite place, and he can’t stop the way his eyes flick down to Harry’s lips as the countdown nears the end. Harry tilts his head, and if Liam leaned forward _just enough_ they would be touching, and--

“Liam!” Leigh-Anne’s voice calls from next to them, making them jump apart. “Happy New Year, babes!” She leans in and gives him a big kiss on the cheek, probably leaving a stain of her lipstick. Harry won’t meet his eyes, and Liam’s left wishing he had received a different kiss. 

*

The next day, Liam wakes to his phone practically buzzing off his nightstand. He answers it groggily, only to pull it away immediately when Niall starts shouting in his ear. 

“Fuckin’ finally, Payno! You gotta get to the hospital ASAP, Louis’s awake,” he says, and Liam stares at his wall for a confused second before Niall’s words fully process. 

“He’s _what_?” Liam asks, sitting up in bed.

“He’s awake, Liam, and everyone’s waiting for you,” Niall says, and his voice sounds slightly more sympathetic. 

“Niall, what the hell am I gonna _do_? He doesn’t even know who I am,” Liam says, though he’s already standing and moving towards his clothes, knowing he can’t the family down even if he’s only going to crush them by telling them the truth later. 

“I dunno, mate, but there’s always the chance that he takes one look and falls madly in love with you,” Niall replies, and Liam leans forward and puts his head in his hands, laughing a bit hysterically. Two weeks ago that exact situation was Liam’s dream, and now the whole thing’s been fucked by a boy with curly hair and green eyes.

*

When Liam gets to the hospital, Niall meets him at the door and whisks him off to Louis’ room, where the rest of the family is waiting, including--much to Liam’s dismay--Harry. Harry studiously avoids Liam’s gaze as Liam makes the rounds giving out hugs to all the girls. Jay informs him that Louis fell back asleep shortly after waking in the early hours of the morning, but that the doctor told them he should be waking up again soon. Liam forces a smile at that, and ignores the way Harry still isn’t looking at him. Lottie does catch his eye and sends him an apologetic look, but Liam just shrugs. This was his mess to begin with, and he’ll have to get out of it all on his own. 

A soft noise from the bed draws their attention, and Liam looks over just as Louis’ eyes begin to flutter open. For a second it looks like he’s about to fall right back to sleep, but then his eyes focus and he scans them over his family, a smile spreading on his face. His eyes pass over Liam’s form quickly before moving on to Fizzy next to him, but then Louis’ eyes return and a confused look takes over his face. 

“Who’re you?” he asks, and Liam doesn’t know what to do as everyone else in the room turns to him. 

“Oh my God,” Fizzy says. “He’s got amnesia.” 

Liam closes his eyes as the room bursts into activity around him. 

*

Harry comes up to him a bit later, when he's sitting in a chair in the corner as Jay and the doctor talk quietly to Louis. They think Louis’ got some type of short-term memory loss that erased the last few months, which explains why he has no clue who Liam is. Liam has a better reason for why Louis doesn't know who he is, but he's not sure if now is the time to voice it. 

“Hey,” Harry says, sitting down in the chair next to Liam and putting his arm around his shoulders. “Are you doing alright?”

“Peachy,” Liam replies, keeping his gaze locked on the linoleum in front of him so he doesn't have to face Harry's eyes. 

“Come on, Liam, it'll be alright,” Harry tries to reassure him. “The doctor said this is common in patients with head injuries, and that it usually wears off. He'll remember you in no time.” Harry's head is ducked closer, and Liam turns to give him a shaky smile before a voice calls out from across the room. 

“Well, don't you two look cosy,” Louis says, and Liam flinches away from Harry to look over at him. At some point during their conversation, Jay and the doctor had left, leaving Harry and Liam alone with Louis. “Thought you were my boyfriend, not Harry’s,” Louis continues. Liam stutters a bit, flushing red, and Harry adjusts his arm around Liam's shoulders. 

“C’mon, Lou, imagine you're in his place,” Harry says, and Louis softens a bit under Harry's tone. He looks back at Liam and then gestures to the chair next to his bed. 

“Alright, then,” he says. “Reckon we should get to know each other a bit, yeah?”

Liam nods shakily. “Sure,” he says, standing up from his chair and making his way closer to Louis’ bed, leaving Harry sat on the other side of the room. “Anything in particular you want to know?” Liam asks, and Louis’ lips stretch into a smile. It’s a smile that Liam daydreamed about many a time, but now he just notices the lack of dimples and the fact that Louis’ eyes don’t crinkle the same way as Harry’s. He sits at the chair next to Louis’ bed and tries not to look to disappointed when Harry leaves the room with not much more than a wave.

*

Liam spends the next two days at Louis’ bedside, reacquainting (or rather, acquainting) themselves. It's nice, Louis is nice, and Liam doesn't miss the way Jay gets slightly teary when she sees them together, but Liam can't make himself feel anything more than a slight friendship towards Louis. He finds himself asking to hear more stories about Harry, about them growing up together and their time at college and any other little detail he can get. Louis doesn’t seem to mind, especially because most of the stories involve him recounting some amazing prank he played on Harry. Meanwhile, Harry’s been pretty effectively avoiding Liam since Louis woke up, visiting the hospital when Liam’s working and staying on the other side of the room when they’re all there together. No one’s commented on it so far, but Lottie’s sent him a few concerned looks and he sometimes catches Louis looking between the two of them with his eyes squinted like he’s trying to figure something out. Liam ignores it, like he ignores the guilt that builds in his stomach when Jay sighs over him and Louis, or when Louis smiles at him a certain way. He ignores it all. 

*

Another two days, and Louis gets moved into a different room, outside of the ER. Liam finds out when he shows up to the previous room only to find it empty, and Niall shuttles him up two floors until he reaches the new room. Louis is there, sitting up in bed, quite clearly waiting for him. 

“Liam! There you are,” he says, face perking up. “Come here.”

Liam walks over, sits down gently on the bed next to Louis’ knees when he gestures. “Hey,” he says belatedly. “What’s up?”

“I wanted to talk to you about something,” Louis says, and he starts to look a bit nervous. “I’ve been talking with my mom, and my sisters, and, well, you know they love you. A lot, they’re always talking about you, it’s starting to hurt my ego a bit.” He laughs a little. “And I’ve been thinking, you know, about how important it is for my family to approve of the person I’m with, and you’re there, Liam, and I just. Well, Liam Payne, will you marry me?”

Liam’s mouth drops open, and he hears a crash from the hallway. Niall’s standing there when he looks over, a tray with what appears to be Louis’ lunch on the ground in front of him and a shocked look on his face. Liam’s about to get up to help clean up the mess when he feels a hand on his arm. 

“Liam, you haven’t answered me yet,” Louis says with a smile, though there’s a hint of nervousness underneath. 

“Um, I--, this is, uh, wow, Louis,” Liam stutters, and Louis grins. 

“‘S a yes or no answer, mate,”

“Yeah, I, yes, Louis, yes,” Liam says. Louis’ face goes slack, look of surprise taking over his features.

“Really?” he asks, and he grins when Liam nods. Liam smiles back and doesn't think about the guilt in his stomach. He's gotten good at that now. 

*

When they tell Louis’ family, Harry avoids Liam's gaze. He gives them a polite smile and a congratulations and then makes some excuse for why he suddenly needs to leave. Louis’s too engulfed in hugs from his sisters to notice, but Liam sees the way he turns back just before he reaches the door. Their eyes meet, and Harry sends him a small, sad smile before he walks out the door. Liam turns back to the family and takes Louis’ hand where it’s reaching out for him. This is what he wanted. Really. 

*

Louis wants to move quickly with the wedding, doesn’t really see the point in spending time being fiancees when they could be husbands already. Liam can’t really object, seeing as he doesn’t have a family or really anyone to invite other than the girls and maybe Niall, who would be there anyway since it’s looking likely they’ll hold it in the hospital chapel while Louis is still recovering. Liam mostly feels like he’s been swept away by the hurricane that is Louis, and he doesn’t know how to stop it. It doesn’t help that he’s barely seen Harry since they announced the engagement, though he knows Harry will be standing next to Louis the day of the wedding as his best man. Liam’s not sure if that makes him feel better or not. 

He tells Leigh-Anne about the wedding the day before, handing her the invitation as he walks into the booth for their last shared shift. 

“Hang on,” she says after she’s read it. “Liam, this is your wedding invitation.”

“Yep,” he replies, avoiding her gaze. 

“Your wedding invitation to _Louis_ ,” she says.

“Yes, Leigh-Anne, I’m aware of who my fiance is. Are you going to come or not?” he says, probably too snappily for someone who’s supposed to be happily married in 24 hours. Maybe he can play it off as cold feet--he almost laughs at the thought and how true it is.

“Of course I’m coming, but Liam, are you sure? It’s just, at New Year’s, you and Harry--”

“Me and Harry nothing,” Liam cuts in. “He didn’t want me, alright? He never did, and I’m with Louis, and I’m happy, okay?” 

“Okay,” she says, and squeezes his shoulder a bit. “I’ll be there tomorrow, all of us girls will.”

Liam nods, and spends the rest of his shift ignoring the pit in his stomach.

*

Liam’s stood in front of his mirror that night, three ties draped around his neck, trying to figure out which one goes best with his suit for tomorrow, when there’s a knock on the door. He goes to open it, focused mostly on holding Watson’s collar to keep him from jumping on whoever’s at the door, and it takes him a minute to notice that it’s Harry standing in front of him. 

“Harry, hi, how are you?” he says, stepping back to let him through the door. Harry enters, but he lingers near the doorway, not making any move to take off his jacket. He’s got a little bag in his hands, and Liam wonders what’s inside. 

“Good, good. How are you? Big day tomorrow. I, uh, like the blue one,” Harry replies, gesturing to the ties Liam’s still got around his neck, and Liam flushes a bit, taking them off and hanging them off the back of a chair. “I just wanted to stop by and give you something, you know, before all the presents come in tomorrow.” Harry passes him the bag, twisting his hands together in front of him now that he hasn’t got anything to occupy them. 

“Oh, wow, Harry, thanks,” Liam says, opening the bag. He pulls out a snow globe; there’s a little snowman inside wearing a coconut bra and hula skirt, tiny ukulele held in its arms. Liam laughs, though it comes out slightly choked. 

“It’s just, ah, you said that your mom collected snowglobes? And I thought, I don’t know, I saw it in a shop today and I thought you’d like it,” Harry says, rubbing a hand across the back of his neck. Liam doesn’t know what to do with himself. He told Harry about his mom’s snow globe collection in passing once as they walked by the hospital gift shop on the way out the door. The fact that he remembered something so inconsequential and then went out of his way to get something for Liam, _just_ for him, despite the fact that he’s probably already got a present for both Louis and Liam to open tomorrow, it--well, it makes tears prick at the corners of Liam’s eyes. It’s been so long since someone had thought about Liam like that. 

“Thank you, Harry, really. I love it,” Liam says, shaking the snow globe a bit to watch the powder swirl around the snowman inside. He puts it down on the table next to him and then turns back to Harry, pulling him into a hug. He holds on tight, probably tighter than a simple “thank you” hug deserves, but then again Harry is holding him just as tight and Liam doesn’t think he imagines the way Harry buries his face in the space between Liam’s neck and shoulder and then takes a deep breath. After a bit, Harry pulls away.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Liam, yeah?” he says, and Liam nods silently. Harry turns to the door, pulls it open and takes half a step through it when Liam grabs him by the sleeve. 

“Harry, wait, I--” he starts, but he’s cut off by Harry shaking his head.

“Liam, if you’re going to say what I think you’re going to, I won’t be able to be held responsible for my actions, so I think I better just go,” he says. Liam nods again, letting him go with a sigh. He shakes the snow globe one more time and stares at it until the last of the flakes reach the bottom before he goes to bed.

*

Liam’s late. He overslept after tossing and turning all night and then he missed the bus and now he’s running to get to the hospital because he’s late for his own damn wedding. 

Niall meets him at the door, gives him a quick hug and pat on the back before they rush into the elevator, heading to the third floor and the hospital chapel. Niall gives him another hug at the door before practically pushing him through it, only to stop him two steps down the aisle because he forgot to take off his coat.

Liam starts his walk down the aisle again, smiling at the girls on his side and the whole Tomlinson bunch on the other. He looks up about halfway down the aisle to see Louis standing at the end, looking nervous with Harry standing next to him. Harry shoots Liam a little smile, but it does nothing to fill the pit in his stomach that only grows the closer he gets to Louis and to his future. He can’t do this. He really can’t. 

He makes it to the end of the aisle and stands up there next to Louis, but as soon as the minister opens his mouth on a “dearly beloved,” he’s cutting in. 

“I object,” he says, sending a murmur up through the gathered guests. 

“I’m, uh, gonna have to object as well,” Harry says on the other side of Louis. The minister looks between the two of them before turning to Louis. 

“What about you?” he says, and Louis shrugs, confused look on his face. 

“I haven’t decided,” he replies, and Liam laughs slightly hysterically. He turns to face the guests, mostly the Tomlinsons, and takes a deep breath. 

“I have to explain something to you, to all of you. Louis and I were never dating. We had never really spoken until that day on the tracks. I pulled him away from the train and I came here to see if he was alright, and they wouldn’t let me see him, and then,” he clears his throat, shooting a glance at Niall who’s got a sheepish look on his face in the back of the room. “There was a bit of a mix-up, I guess, and they thought I was his boyfriend, and then _you all_ thought I was his boyfriend, and I wasn’t exactly sure how to stop it.” He can see Lottie smiling at him a bit, but he’s mostly focused on the shocked look on Jay’s face. “And then, well, I didn’t really want it to stop because it had been so long since I had a family and I think I forgot what it felt like. To be a son, to be a brother, to be part of a family that loves you unconditionally.” Liam’s getting choked up now, and he turns to Louis, ignoring the stunned look on Harry’s face just over his shoulder. “I want you to know how lucky you are, to have a family that loves you so much, and I want to thank you for sharing them with me.” He turns back to the rest of the room. “I’m sorry,” he says, and walks out, sparing one last glance back at Harry before he leaves the room, over the commotion as Jay and the girls walk up to Louis and give him hugs. Harry’s looking right at him, though, and he mouths “why didn’t you say anything?” Liam shrugs. “I didn’t know how to tell you,” he mouths back, and then he leaves.

*

Liam spends the next week in a bit of a funk, forcing himself out of bed in the morning just to go to work and take Watson out before falling onto the couch and watching rom-coms until he can’t keep his eyes open anymore. Leigh-Anne and the girls have invited him round for dinner, and even Niall’s texted about watching the game on the weekend, but Liam’s begged off, content to wallow a bit more in self-pity before re-entering the real world. 

He knows it’s his own fault, that he can’t have expected Harry to come running after him when he’s just gone and lied to the people who are practically his family. But, well, Liam’s always had a penchant for dreaming, and when he’s sitting at the booth for another dreary day at work he distracts himself with fantasies as to how exactly Harry could’ve come and swept him off his feet. 

It’s for this reason that he doesn’t quite believe his eyes when he looks up from where he’s counting tokens one day at Perrie’s insistent nudging and sees Harry standing there, leaning against the turnstile and looking far too perfect for a train station on a Tuesday afternoon. Liam stands, ignoring Perrie’s squeals as he heads out of the booth and stands in front of Harry, the turnstile still a barrier between them.

“What are you doing here?” Liam asks softly.

“Well, you see, about two weeks ago I found out my best mate was dating this guy, which was a shock to me because the last time I spoke to him he had been complaining about being single. And then I met the boyfriend, and he was gorgeous, and funny, and sweet, and everything I ever wanted, but I couldn’t have him because he was with my friend. But then it turned out he actually _wasn’t_ with my friend, and maybe I wasn’t a terrible person for the things I wanted, and after a bit of a kick in the ass from a certain little sister of a certain friend, I thought I would see if maybe he felt the same way about me too. How’s that sound?”

“Sounds like you should find that guy, he sounds pretty great,” Liam says, smiling when Harry’s grin grows and he reaches a hand out to pull him closer. They’re standing practically chest to chest now, the bar from the turnstile pressing into the tops of Liam’s thighs. Harry intertwines their fingers, moving his other hand up to rest on Liam’s cheek, tilting his head and leaning closer until their mouths are almost touching. 

“Got him right where I want him,” Harry murmurs against his lips, and then they’re kissing, and Liam feels like he could just float away if it weren’t for Harry’s hand secure in his. Harry’s lips are soft, and they’re pressing against his so gently--they are still in a public place--but with just a hint of pressure that’s driving Liam mad and makes him want to take Harry off to the nearest private place and see what he can do. He pulls back before he lets those thoughts get too far though, mindful that he’s still at work and on the clock. Harry tries to follow him when he steps back, only to be stopped by the turnstile, which he gives an affronted look. 

“Can I get through?” he says as Liam laughs. 

“Not without a token, mate,” Liam responds, and Harry huffs, digging a token out of his pocket and pushing through the turnstile, wrapping his arms around Liam’s waist and squeezing him a bit.

“That’s better,” Harry says, pressing another kiss against Liam’s smiling mouth. Liam has to agree. 

*

_6 months later_

Liam and Harry are curled together on the couch at Jay’s, the whole family gathered for a Sunday dinner. Liam's nursing a soda and laughing at Harry whispering in his ear when Jay calls from the kitchen asking for Harry's help setting the table. Liam shoos Harry off to help, laughing at his pout as Jay piles plate after plate into his arms. He's taking another sip of his soda when Louis drops down onto the couch next to him. 

“Hello, Liam,” Louis says, and Liam already feels nervous. Their relationship isn't strained, exactly, but there's still a bit of leftover awkwardness from the _we-almost-got-married-before-I-stopped-it-because-of-your-best-friend-but-you-never-loved-me-anyway_ situation. Though the other day Harry told Liam that Louis had started talking to the girl he dated all through college again, so he's probably not too torn up over Liam. 

“Hi, Louis,” Liam says, reaching forward to place his drink on the coffee table. If there's one thing he _has_ learned from spending more time with Louis, it's that he's very handsy, and Liam's spilled one too many drinks after a well-timed nipple pinch to not be cautious now. 

“I was watching you just now with our dear Harold,” he starts, and this is not exactly what Liam was expecting. “And it's clear you too are pretty serious, yeah? So I just wanted to ask you when it was you fell in love with him.”

Oh. Liam has to think for a minute because he's really not sure _when_ he started loving Harry, just that now it's such a fundamental part of him he's not sure who he would be without it. 

“Well,” he starts, smiling a bit as he thinks of the past Christmas and all the events that transpired then. “I guess it was while you were sleeping.”


End file.
